


Dead Men Don't Think

by bbcsherlockian



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbcsherlockian/pseuds/bbcsherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rick has a hard time battling his cowardice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Men Don't Think

"I like to think the Earth is pretty tough. It's survived multiple plagues, violent and generally unnecessary wars, heartbreak, losses, ice ages, droughts, human intervention and it's acquired countless scars throughout its life. The people have always come out of these things on top, too.  
So why is this different? Why should we stop fighting now?  
When they first started appearing, I realised the world had finally gone to shit and there was sod all we could do about it. But the more I think about it, we've survived plenty of these so-called apocalypses, when there was little hope to be found anywhere. _Yes_ , people are dying. But people have always been dying, and everyone at some stage in their lives has come to terms with death, and the concept of all their loved ones falling victim to it."

They've just never come back before.

So I just stand there. Seeing Carl or Laurie coming at me in the back if my mind, faster and faster until I know I have to pull the trigger, I have to end it or else they'll end me. Because they wouldn't be Carl or Laurie anymore. I just would never be able to tell myself that if it wasn't them.

And when I come back from the depths of my mind, I look at the faces of the people who trust me, staring back at me, expecting me to encourage them some more, to tell them that we will survive this, and this isn't the end of anything.

So I do.

I just don't have to mean it.

They're still running towards me, their eyes clouded over and dead, so dead, the gore of Glenn or maybe Shane dripping off their jaws. Even if I don't know it yet, my subconscious knows that I could never be strong enough to kill my own family, even when they aren't my family at all.

You still love people, even in death.

So I just keep smiling and enforcing something on them which I can't for one minute believe myself. I look at Carl's grinning face, shadowed by the brim of that ridiculous hat which means nothing in this world, and the knife and small pistol tucked carelessly into the waistband of his jeans.

My son shouldn't be growing up around this, he shouldn't be made into a man he could never have been before, and I can't see him twisted and mutilated in his own corpse.

Maybe they can survive this. But I'm nowhere near strong enough as them.

I turn on my heel, cowardice forcing me to look away from my wife and son, casually flick one of the older rifles onto my finger, and stride towards the forest opening.

I don't look back.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always had quite a strong opinion that Rick is a very broken character, who has seen far too much pain and suffering than he ever should have. Which is why I wrote him killing himself. Um.   
> ... I seem to have this incredible ability of writing really bad, really depressing fanfics.


End file.
